


Playing Nice

by Dana



Series: Playing For Keeps [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BTW, Blowjobs and anal sex oh my, Established Relationship, Hank and Connor are crazy in love, M/M, Nines and Gavin are Nines and Gavin, Porn with Feelings, Post-Game, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Some partner swapping I guess, This is only the beginning, he fuck me real good i take his ass to red lobster, they're all going to love each other when i'm finished with them, though seriously in this instance the red lobster is a downpayment on all the fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: 'Well, it does have the best fucking biscuits.'  Hank lets out another soft sigh.  He'd probably sell his soul for an endless supply of those biscuits, Jesus, he's salivating already.  'Alright, alright.  But just so you know, I'm doing this for the biscuits.'Connor grins, and laughs, then presses a kiss to Hank's cheek.  'Okay.  Do it for the biscuits.'  So that was kind of a lie, and Hank knows Connor can tell, but it's not like Hank reallycares.





	Playing Nice

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short, simple thing where Hank and Connor go on a double date with Gavin and Nines, except the double date was never supposed to actually _matter_ , it was what happened before and after that were of more importance. Anyhow, as it sometimes happens when I'm writing, the whole damn thing exploded on me. I'm already planning on writing more of this 'verse, so brace yourselves or whatever.
> 
> This was betaed by a super awesome person, but any left over mistakes can be blamed on your's truly.

'How's about we just… not go out tonight, huh? We can stay in, order some pizza, maybe watch a movie…'

Hank glares at his reflection in the mirror – well, maybe _glare_ is too strong of a word. Maybe it's just a scowl. A somewhat annoyed frown. Maybe he's making something out of nothing, and it's not like Connor didn't already know he wasn't exactly a people person, no, he'd been pretty damn aware of it all along. Hank's a fucking wallflower, alright. Hanging out and the bar and having a few drinks, that was one thing. Doing his job because it was his fucking job, that's something else. No one was actually expecting him to be _social_ , for fuck's sake. Or act like he was having a good time.

Connor sighs softly, the slightest hint of a frown darkening his expression. 'Hank, please.'

'What?'

'We talked about this already.' His eyes are on Hank's, but his hands are still occupied with tying his tie, and Hank's torn between watching the rapid movement of his hands as they deal with the length of silk, or lose himself as he looks at Connor's face. 'You said you were willing to at least try.'

Hank shrugs. 'Yeah, well, that's what I said. What if I felt like changing my mind?'

Connor's LED whirls yellow. 'You wouldn't do that, would you?' He looks seriously disappointed at Hank's hypothetical query, and yeah, Hank had _thought_ about it, but making Connor sad was one of his least favorite things to do.

'Guess not. But there's no law saying I can't think about it, right?'

A wave of bemused confusion washes across Connor's face. 'You're right, that's not against the law.'

With an answer that mostly calmed him, Connor went back to adjusting his tie. He looked good. The blazer he wore was a dark blue, almost black. The shirt underneath was a much lighter shade, almost the same color as the blue of his LED, bright and cool. The pants he wore were, in Hank's opinion, indecently tight, and even darker than the blazer, almost black. Probably wasn't much he'd have looked bad in, really. Evan managed it with that old stuff of Hank's that he'd repurposed as his own, the hoodies and the sweatshirts that were all too big for him, not that it stopped him. Not that Hank minded it, Connor looked a helluva lot better in Hank's old clothes than Hank had ever looked in them.

And Hank really would rather be spending the evening at home instead of having to go out.

'Remind me again why we're doing this?'

Connor sighs, with just a hint of well-worn humor because seriously, he's explained this all already. 'I understand that Gavin is not exactly your favorite person ever, but I would like to spend more time outside of work with Nines. Double dating sounds like it could be a whole lot of fun.'

'Right, right, let's knock out two birds with one stone.'

Frowning, he loosens his tie until he's back at the beginning, just two loose strands hanging about his neck. Hank gives into the urge and watches the rapid flicker of Connor's hands as he begins working on his tie once more, his words softening to a pleasant, dull blur. He's grown plenty damn fond of Connor's goofy face and weird voice, and hell, it's not like he really meant it that way even when he'd first said it.

Connor keeps on talking, but Hank's not actually paying any attention to what he says.

'What was that?' he murmurs.

'I knew I was right.' Another sigh, only somewhat annoyed. 'You weren't actually paying attention to anything I was saying. What I said was, if you don't end up enjoying yourself, we never have to try something like this again – but, I'm sure, if you just give it a chance, you'll end up having a rewarding evening.'

'I know, I know.'

'I mean… if you want to, I can contact Nines – the taxi is on its way, but I could let them know that something unexpected has turned up and we will no longer be able to attend.' God, no, it's the puppy eyes – how the hell could Connor expect him to tell him _sure, go right ahead, and by the way, thanks for reminding me what a bastard I can be_ , when he was looking at him like _that_?

'Ah, fuck, don't even say that, Connor. You don't have to cancel anything, you've been looking forward to this all week long. I know it's important to you. I don't wanna fuck it all up, that's all.'

His expression softens into the sweetest of smiles, and Hank's stomach does a few flips. 'We're going to have a wonderful time,' Connor says, turning away from the mirror to face Hank head on. He steps in close, their bodies close to touching. He nuzzles his cheek against Hank's as he slides his arms about Hank's hips, hooking his fingers into the back of Hank's belt. He lets out a little sigh.

'I miss your beard.'

'Give it a few weeks, it'll be back.'

'Good. While I do like you like this… I miss your scruff.' Like this, bare-faced, with Hank's hair pulled back and tied up (he can't even run a hand back through it, to help settle his nerves), in one of his vintage tops that sticks out like a sore thumb (Connor loves it). He's wearing a dark blazer over it, it's really nothing special, but unlike Connor, he isn't wearing a tie. Lucky him. And since Connor likes it, well… Hank's self esteem is bolstered by Connor's approval, let's just put it like that.

Anyhow, it was Connor's gratuitous use of the puppy eyes that got Hank to agree with this in the first place. Fuck.

'I like you no matter what.'

Connor beams at him, leans up, kisses him chastely, just a slow peck on the lips. Before he has a chance to pull away, Hank slides a hand up to the back of his neck, and pulls him right back in. 'Mmph!' Connor quickly relaxes into the kiss, and Hank feels at least some of his nerves flying right the fuck off.

'I love you,' he says, against Connor's lips.

'I love _you_.'

He lets Connor step away from him, to yet again adjust his tie, because he was unhappy with how it was hanging, or whatever, he did have a few nervous tics, like the game he liked to play with his coin. He looks good, he needs to stop fidgeting, but hey, it's obvious he's nervous too. 'You're good, Connor. Can't top perfection.'

Connor flushes pink as he blushes. 'Ah, thank you, Hank.' With a little sigh, he lets go of his tie, and turns away from the mirror, resting his hand lightly on Hank's arm. 'Are you sure?'

Hank nods. 'I'm sure.'

He gives a little nod, and a softer sigh. 'Come on, it won't be much longer.'

'You get another update from Nines?'

'No, but as you should know by now, he's very punctual.'

Maybe he's a little glad Connor has interests outside of taking care of him, their house, and Sumo (oh yeah, and work). He's close to Nines, and even Hank genuinely enjoys the other android's company – they might look a like, but their personalities are as different as night and fucking day. Gavin Reed, on the other hand, is a whole other bucket of _nope_. They're antagonistic for a reason, but… well, he doesn't want to disappoint Connor. That's all.

'Are you sure I look okay?' he asks, and Connor looks at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.

'You look amazing!' Connor's smiling brightly as he fidgets with Hank's collar, smoothing it back down. Hank feels the heat all over his face, down his neck – even the tips of his ears are hot. 'You're quite adorable when you blush, Lieutenant.'

'Ah, for fuck's sake, Connor, _shut up_.' He doesn't like being called things like that, like cute, or fucking _adorable_. Connor's the only person he'll let get away with it, but then, Connor's the only one who seems to think he's actually good looking.

Connor grins, and winks at him. Hank swallows the sudden lump in his throat, and reaches for Connor's arm. 'You sure you don't wanna…'

' _Hank_.'

'Alright, alright.'

'Would you like something to drink before we leave?'

'Nah, I'm alright. I think I can wait till we get where we're going.' He gives Connor's arm a squeeze and then makes a beeline for the sofa, flopping down onto it with a loud grunt. Relaxing into the well-worn cushions, he stretches his legs out and takes a deep breath, lets out a sigh. Maybe he should get Connor to wake Sumo… No, that's probably a bad idea. They'd end up covered with even more dog fur than they were already sporting. Connor had spoiled him earlier on, taking him on extra walks and playing with him as much as he possibly could. Might have felt a little guilty about leaving him at home alone all evening, but it wasn't like Sumo wasn't already used to it, given the hours both of them worked.

'You know, you could have just gone and hung out at Nines's place. There wasn't a need to drag me and Reed along.'

Connor sits down beside him, a lot more primly than Hank, and lets out a soft sigh of his own. He doesn't always look so calmly collected, but he does seem to aim for it. 'Well, for personal reasons beyond what I have already explained, I would like to spend more time with _you_ outside of work. Yes, I know we live together, but that's hardly the same thing. And it's not we go on many proper dates.'

Hank's a little uneasy now, having been confronted by the blatant truth. He's really not a dating type of guy, but it does sometimes happen, and sure, yeah, _okay_ , they always did end up having a great time. 'I know, okay.' He takes a look at his watch, then glances over at Connor. 'Sure, whatever. But why _Reed_?'

Connor grins. 'Because it would be rude of me to bring you and not allow Nines to bring Detective Reed along as well. It would definitely serve to defeat the purpose of it being a _double date_.'

Hank sighs, shaking his head. Casual as anything, he slides his arm around Connor's shoulders, and Connor leans into him, so fucking warm, nuzzling in close. 'Oh alright.'

Of course, give Connor inch and he takes a mile. 'As for the restaurant we'll be going to, Nines and I factored in many different variables before coming to an agreement. Mostly, we chose this one because it was nice enough without necessitating formal dress, and both you and Detective Reed share a highly favorable opinion of the place already. Detective Reed, specifically, is quite a fan of its _aesthetic_.' There'd been something else too, about how Nines took him there rather often because it was _literally_ Gavin's favorite place to go, which Hank of course took as a personal insult. It was a childish reaction, sure, but Hank sure as hell didn't care. His favorite chain restaurant/semi-nice place to eat wasn't allowed to be the same as Gavin's.

'Well, it does have the best fucking biscuits.' Hank lets out another soft sigh. He'd probably sell his soul for an endless supply of those biscuits, Jesus, he's salivating already. 'Alright, alright. But just so you know, I'm doing this for the biscuits.'

Connor grins, and laughs, then presses a kiss to Hank's cheek. 'Okay. Do it for the biscuits.' So that was kind of a lie, and Hank knows Connor can tell, but it's not like Hank really _cares_.

And Hank smiles, because Connor's laugh has a way of putting him at ease. 'You know, you look really nice tonight, Connor.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah.' Hank turns, leaves them nose to nose. Connor blinks slowly, and Hank licks his lips. He lowers a hand down to tease at the solitary button that's holding Connor's blazer shut. 'Already looking forward to getting you out of this get up.'

He blushes a little, and lets out another laugh. 'Maybe I've got plans of my own.'

Hank quirks an eyebrow, just the one. 'Is that so?' He lets his hand wander, tugs on Connor's tie, and Connor's lip twist into a smile that's struggling to be a frown.

'Hank, please.'

Hank chuckles, and lets go of the tie. 'Oh alright, I won't mess it up. At least I don't have to worry about wearing one of those fucking things myself…' He gets in close, though, and Connor angles his head so they slide together perfectly as they kiss.

'This is true…' Connor murmurs, between kisses, his face glowing pink. 'You… hate… ties...'

'Mmm… yeah, but you… you're wearing one, yeah?'

Connor stops and pulls back, licking at his kiss-slick lips. 'I _like_ wearing ties. It's completely different.'

Hank huffs. 'Yeah, yeah, I know.' He tweaks that button again, and Connor reaches for the hand before it can cause any fashion-related harm.

'Anyhow, I'm sure you're going to enjoy yourself this evening, Hank. You and Detective Reed will most likely be too busy eating and drinking to really have to worry about dealing with each other. That will leave Nines and myself with plenty of time to socialize.' Connor doesn't even remind him that him and Gavin ignoring each other _really_ defeats the purpose of it being a double date, but he doesn't bring it up – it's not like Hank was gonna forget that easy. Connor can really only expect so much from him, alright?

'Yeah, whatever.'

Connor's eyes flicker, his LED momentarily flashing yellow. He smiles, the light quickly switching back over to cool blue, as he begins to stand, taking Hank by the hand. 'The car has arrived, Lieutenant. Are you ready to go?'

'No, but don't let that stop you.'

He's actually beaming, and it hurts a little, like looking right into the sun, and Hank too stupid to look away. 'Thank you for your cooperation, Hank.' And then after he's gotten up off the couch, and they've said their goodbyes to Sumo who was still snoozing in the kitchen, they head to the front door. Connor picks up the lint brush and brushes them both down, though Hank gets to do Connor's back for him, so yeah, he tries to be a little bit of tease.

After that, as Connor chuckles, cheeks sill faintly pink from his blush, they head out into the gloom of the early evening, hand in hand.

–  
–

Hank's trying, he really is. It's been a while since he felt this uncomfortable – hell, the first time he let Connor fuck him, he was a whole lot more relaxed. But Gavin, too – even though they've sneered at each other a few times, it's not like they've started fighting in the back of the automated cab – seems to be trying, because he's not made any antagonistic remarks that Hank would have been hard pressed not to respond to with fists. If he wants to make Nines happy, the way Hank wants to make Connor happy, maybe… well, maybe he's not a complete piece of human trash.

Just most of one.

So, they've got at least a few things in common: android boyfriends who deserve better than them, a love of garlicky, buttery biscuits, and oh yeah, they both happen to be cops. Fuck. This evening's gonna go _swimmingly_ , what the hell has he got himself into?

Connor gives his hand a squeeze, as well as a small smile. Hank smiles back at him, feeling a little more at ease. Whatever he ends up facing, at least Connor's going to be there beside him.

Gavin scowls, but doesn't say a thing. He goes on sulking, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back into the corner of his seat and the cab's door.

Nines and Connor are the only two that are actively engaged in conversation – Hank and Gavin are the ones who are sitting around, pensively, like it was the end of the world instead of a taxi ride to a place they both loved to eat at. Sure, Nines and Connor, they could have interfaced, or talked at each other in their minds because it wasn't like androids weren't weird enough already, but no, Connor had said something about wanting to do this the human way. Going somewhere semi-nice, and spending time together, talking about their mutual interests while their boyfriends eat a lot of food and get a little drunk.

They've started early, chatting at each other – about sports, and crime rates, even their partners. They're leaning forward, talking to each other in a very animated manner – well, it's a lot more animated on Connor's side of things, at least (it's actually pretty fucking cute). Nines just isn't as expressive. He's a little colder, a lot more professional. Hank wonders what sort of hobbies he has, if he's got any at all. He's got to do more than look after his fuck-up of a partner, right?

Of course, that's hitting uncomfortably close to home. But the difference is, Hank's not Gavin, and that's what really count.

–  
–

Dinner is not bad at all and he gets to drink a few nice hard drinks, plus fill up on those biscuits he'd probably kill a man for. Sure, Connor had had a little bit to drink, too, but Nines had abstained. Hank wonders if he even knows how to let loose. Sure, he'd used to wonder that about Connor, too, but he's had a front row seat when it came to Connor and adapting to life as a deviant, he got to see it all directly for himself. Connor's always been Connor, but he's so much more than he used to be, before.

On the way back, Hank and Gavin are forced to sit side by side because Nines and Connor are now occupying the other side of the cab. They're talking rather cheerfully about the night they've had, a little about their human partners as well. Gavin's snoring softly as he sleeps, there's even a little bit of drool slipping down his chin, ugh. Hank has to shove him back onto his own damned side of the back seat a few times, because he keeps trying to slide over and collapse into Hank's.

Hank, though, while he's a little out of it but it's not like he's ready to pass out. He's full and mostly content, and there's a nice bit of alcohol thrumming about in his veins; he's really pleasantly warm. Connor was right – it had been a nice night, he's almost sad to be going home. On the other hand, going home means getting to _be home_ with Connor. Maybe they'll get to make out, even though Hank's still a little tipsy, before letting the sweet embrace of ~~death~~ sleep take him.

Hank wakes up a little when he sees that Nines is looking across the back of the cab at him. He's not doing much, just _staring_ , and it would've been creepy if Hank was a little less drunk.

He's good looking, but hey, he looks a lot like Connor. It's not exact – he's a lot broader, in the face, in the shoulders, and he's even a few inches taller than the RK800-model he was meant to replace. The world that RK900-model now known as Nines had awoken into wasn't the same as the one that Connor had first faced – no, CyberLife had literally gone to the androids. No CyberLife as it had been meant no stupid fucking orders to listen to, and Nines hadn't known what to do. His entire purpose was reduced to nothing.

He deviated within hours of first activating, all thanks to Connor. Hadn't exactly been smooth sailing after that, but Nines had done a pretty decent job of figuring things out, even when he'd ended up saddled with Gavin as his partner. Hank might have seemed resentful at first, but Connor had welcomed the help. They were pretty much alone in the department, taking on android-related crimes, so this way they didn't have to spread themselves too thin.

Nines is still staring at him, and it's not like Hank's got anything better to do, so he keeps on staring right back. Slowly, Nines licks his bottom lip – Hank blinks – and Hank, despite his better judgement, wonders what it'd feel like to kiss him. Connor's malleable. Sometimes, Hank's the one who pushes too hard – but he sure as hell does like it when Connor feels like being the pushy one. The two might look a little alike (okay more than just a little), and sometimes Nines still acted like he was the superior, but Connor sure as hell came off as more _flexible_.

Nines, though… Well, Hank probably wouldn't mind getting pushed around by him either. What a thing for him to go and think, but then, he's allowed to think what ever he wants to, it's not against the law. Anyhow, it's not like he'd ever cheat on Connor, or even get a chance to try, or _want to_ , so whatever. Hank is allowed to think whatever he wants to think, no one's gonna get hurt.

Finally, Nines turns away, gazing downwards, and Hank, because he'd already been snagged, follows along. His hand is resting, casually, on Connor's upper thigh, his thumb stroking in soft, small circles, round and round and round. Connor exhales softly – a small, happy sound, the sort that Connor typically reserves for when Hank's the one that's touching him – and Nines lifts his head up and looks away. Hank's still caught up on the detail of Nines's hand, the neat cuff of his sleeve, and his long, long fingers, and the dark fabric of Connor's tight pants.

Slowly, he makes himself look up. And stops. And blinks. Connor's cheeks are faintly pink, his lips parted as he leans in towards Nines. Closer, and closer, his eyes slipping shut as he whispers something against Nines's suddenly supple lips. Nines actually _grins_ at him, and Connor gives a small, breathy chuckle – the hand at Connor's thigh has shifted upwards, squeezing at his hip.

'Con – '

It's slow, very slow, a little like he's dreaming, that or he's high as actual fuck. When exactly had the car stopped moving? He looks out the window – it's a road he's familiar with, somewhere in between the house and the restaurant, with lines of dark buildings running down either side of the road. He turns to look across the back of the cab, a little unsure of what he's going to see.

Just, knowing he's going to see _something_.

Connor tilts his head sideways, and Nines puts his hand to Connor's cheek, the flesh-tone of his skin fading away to the white of the plastic underneath. The same thing happens on Connor's face, just a few centimeters all around the outline of Nines's hand.

Hank's eyebrows practically hit the fucking roof as he watches it unfold in front of him. Connor is kissing Nines, Nines is kissing Connor. It is – really, fucking, _hot_ , and a little distressing, but a whole lot hotter, and okay, maybe, he really, he doesn't, _what_. The latent arousal he was feeling already – get home, manhandle Connor a little if that was what he was in the mood for, pass out, maybe do a little extra in the morning before heading into work because Hank probably wouldn't have performed all that well the night before – is pressing in tight all around him, squeezing him like a fucking vice. All the blood in his body is quickly flowing south, and Hank's just a puppet that's swept along with it, no matter what he actually wants (but oh, fuck, God, he _wants_ ).

He must have made a noise, desperate but small, because Connor puts his hands to Nines's chest and gives a little push. Nines backs off, and Connor turns to look at him. The skin's back in place, they almost look untouched. But for the glistening of something slick on Connor's lips. The soft red glow of the blush on his cheeks.

Those big, brown eyes of his focus on Hank, so soft and fucking sweet. 'Hank?'

'I… uh…' He shifts about. He's uncomfortable on multiple levels – his shirt feels a little too tight, but so are his pants, and Gavin's soft snores keep on reminding Hank he's not the only human in the back of the cab. He feels a little bad, because Connor's stopped kissing Nines, and he wants to see it more – Connor sure as fuck seemed to be having fun. But Hank doesn't get it, and he wants to, and ugh, _fuck_.

'So. Uhhh ummmm, what's up?'

Connor looks sideways at Nines, his LED flashing yellow. When he turns again to look at Hank, it's settled back on blue, mostly, with a few random, flickering flashes of yellow to show he was still processing. 'We rendered scenario after scenario and compared outcomes – this one, we determined, was the one with the highest possible success rate, as well as the deemed to have the most positive physical reaction. First off, we needed to spark your arousal, and your interest, with something rather more… indirect.'

'Indirect?' Hank asks, with a mouth that's starting to go dry.

'Indeed,' Nines interjects. 'Only then would we be able to reveal ourselves completely, as well as share out plans for the rest of the evening.' _Maybe I've got plans of my own_ , Hank suddenly remembers Connor saying.

'Ah… oh. What was that chance of success?'

'97%,' they say as one.

'Ah… wow, uh. That's pretty fucking high.'

Connor's calm expression flickers, so does his LED – there's a grimace on his lips, but he smooths it away in the blink of an eye. He gets up, stooping down so as not to bump his head on the red-lined ceiling of the cab. Hank watches him come over, blinking a few times, and Connor settles down onto the seat beside him, leg pressed to his.

He takes one of Hank's hands in his, and then the other, and lifts them up to his mouth to press a kiss to each one, soft and slow and sweet. Hank, relaxing in the moment, leans in close as Connor does the same thing. Connor's forehead is warm against his, with little tickles of his soft, silky hair.

'We talked about this, remember?'

Hank squeezes his eyes shut, and okay, yes, he does think about it – sure, he'd been a little smashed at the time, but so had Connor. Since androids could drink things, of course someone was going to make bank on alcohol that took that into account. Connor liked the effects of it, actually, though it hardly seemed fair that he could flush it from his system in a matter of minutes, instead of having to endure it the long way out. There'd already been plenty of installable apps that replicated the fact, but Connor hadn't been a fan. He'd wanted something that was a little more physical, a little more _real_.

Yeah, something a little more human.

He loves Connor, and Connor loves him. Sometimes – a lot of the time, really – Hank worries (he's scared as hell) about what's going to happen to Connor when he's no longer around. And sure, they've done a lot together, in the bedroom and out – and it's not like it was lacking in any way, but okay, Connor was his and he was Connor's, but that hadn't stopped Hank from toying with the idea of trying something different. Maybe a foursome, only he'd specified it would had to be with another human-android couple, he hadn't even really known why, other than it was something he wanted to do. He'd been drunk enough that night to suggest it to Connor. Only, Connor had been drunk enough to really consider it. But he hadn't been drunk enough to forget about it, though, since he's the one who brought it up.

He glances from Connor, across the cab to Nines, then back again. They're both waiting on him to say something, and Connor's hand are warm, so warm, giving his a nice, reassuring squeeze. He knows without having it implicitly stated that they don't want to pressure him into anything he didn't want to do – and ah, fuck, yeah, if he had a bucket list, this would probably be close to the top.

And Connor knows that. Connor knows _him_.

They look so similar, Connor and Nines. Connor's expression, unless he closes himself off and goes and acts like he's a cold-hearted machine, is so much more open, and warm. His eyes are dark, his hair is softer, gentle curls. Nines radiates an aura that's a lot more intense, but Hank's seen him smile, heard him laugh. Still, he's colder – it's got to be something about the eyes, cool gray where Connor's are warm and brown.

It's not like Hank's looking for another partner or anything like that… ah, fuck. He made a promise to himself, he'd never get married again, the last time was an utter shitfest. But maybe… yeah, maybe. Just as soon as it's legal for humans and androids to marry, he'll have to see what Connor thinks about the idea.

Ah, for fuck's sake. He really needs something to drink. He's starting to sweat, Connor's got to notice. They _both_ have to notice, but he doesn't want to give them the wrong idea.

'Lieutenant? If this makes you uncomfortable, you do not…'

'I'm not! I mean, sure, yeah, maybe I am, but just a little bit. Any-fucking-way, it's not the bad sort of uncomfortable.'

Connor tilts his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in question. 'I wasn't aware there were different sorts.'

'Just, uh. Go back to what you were doing, if you want to. I'm in on this, okay?'

'Really?' Connor asks him, a slow smile, eager yet sincere, spreading across his lips.

'Really, really. I… I love you, you know that, right?' He whispers it, voice a little rough, but he means it, and Connor knows it. He can see it in his eyes, in the way he smiles, in all the things he does for him, in all the ways they touch. Connor's currently smiling, tilts his head back, and a little to the side, and presses his lips to Hank's. They kiss – slowly, deeply, passionately – and Hank groans, because it's not enough, he wants a lot more, but Connor is moving back from him, licking at his lips. The kiss was… nice, as always, Hank's feeling a little low on processing power himself. Nice, but a little different, maybe because Hank knows Connor had already been kissing Nines.

'I love you.' He gives Hank's hands another reassuring squeeze, and just as soon as Connor lets go of him, Hank's gonna wipe his hands off on his pants. 'If you want to stop this, just say so.'

'No. Don't worry, okay? I'm okay.'

'You're okay?'

'Yeah,' he gasps out, uneasy, and aroused, and ah, _fuck_. 'I wanna keep watching,' he mumbles, letting go of one of Connor's hand so he can grab at his shirt instead, a little like he's afraid he's going to be left behind; he wants to see where this _goes_. Dragging up all the strength he can, he pulls back, slowly – still has a hold on Connor's shirt, and Nines is sitting across the way, watching them the whole entire time, patient as anything. Like some sort of saint, who wants to have some sort of foursome.

'Wait, wait – one last thing. Why Nines and… Reed?' Hank could maybe set aside his own dislike of the other man (but the feeling was sure as fuck _mutual_ ), but it's not like Gavin had ever really tried to make Connor's life anything but a living hell.

Well, okay. That wasn't completely true. Gavin had calmed down a lot, and Hank wasn't dumb or blind or anything like that, he knew it had something to do with Gavin getting stuck with Nines as his partner.

The corners of Connor's eyes crinkle up as he laughs. And Hank, because Connor's laugh sets him at ease, feels a whole lot better. He pets down the mess he'd made of Connor's shirt.

'You said this was something that you would want to do with another couple that you trusted. And you trust me, and I trust Nines, and Nines trusts Gavin, and anyway, it's not like we know a lot of android-human couples, you know? I… I think we can make this work.'

Well, alright. 'Okay,' Hank say, and it's fucking decisive.

'Okay?' Connor's eyes brighten. 'Alright, Hank, but if you change your mind…'

He trails off, but Hank knows what he needs to do, knows what he needs to say. 'I'll let you know.' Connor eagerly presses in to kiss him, giving his hand one last squeeze, before he stands back up and moves back to his recently seat on the other side of the cab. Finally, Hank can wipe his hands off.

After he's sat back down, Nines leans forwards, reaches out and across the way, and pinches Gavin's leg. He wakes with a jolt and a panicked little yelp, rubbing at his sleepy eyes as he pushes against the door and makes himself sit back up. He's obviously a little disorientated as he tries to remember where the fuck he is, and just what the fuck is going on. Gavin scowls, but his voice is raspy as hell as he demands, 'What the fuck was that for, Nines?'

There's that hint of a smirk on his lips. 'There's been a change of plans, Detective.'

The cab jolts back into motion. Hank's sure they hacked the cameras. Ah, fuck it. He's sure they hacked the _car_. These things just don't change where they're going in the middle of an already paid for route.

'Huh… wait, what?'

'Remember your previously stated desire in having a foursome with another human-android couple?'

'I didn't – I mean, why would I – ' Gavin's face is red as fucking hell, flustered and trying vanish into the back seat, not that he's having any luck. 'I didn't mean it like that!'

Nines keeps his cool. 'How else could you have meant it?' Gavin doesn't have an answer for that, so he keeps his mouth shut, and Nines continues. 'Seeing as you left it up to me to decide which android and human it would be, I have now made up my mind. Lieutenant Anderson and Connor will be joining us for the rest of the evening.'

Gavin doesn't actually try to make a fight out of it, though, like Nines's word is some sort of law, though he does let out a very loud, heavy sounding sigh as he collapses back against the seat. So he's on board, but it's not like he hasn't made it clear what he thinks of Nines's decision. Hank's smirking (who knew Gavin in such a state of obvious discomfort would make him feel so much better about himself?). 'Gavin.exe has stopped working,' he barks out with a laugh.

Gavin's trying to glare at him and he's not doing that good a job. Nines, in his cool, smooth voice, that voice that is so alike and yet so incredibly _different_ from Connor's, has a quick reply to that: 'No worries, Lieutenant. I know just how to turn him back on. Connor, if you'd please…'

Hank swings his attention back onto the androids on the other side of the car. Connor scoots over immediately, bright-eyed and eager. Nines all but pulls him up onto his lap, and Gavin lets out a choked little sound that was half a groan and half a gasp. Hank tries to ease into it, willing his body to relax. He throws one arm up so it's stretched across the backs of the seats, almost touching Gavin.

Nines nips at Connor's bottom lip, and Connor reacts with a soft mewl of pleasure, eyes falling shut. Nines curls one hand at the back of Connor's neck, his hand's doing that thing again – and so's the skin that's closest by. Hank doesn't even know where to look – because the kissing is very, very fucking nice, but there's a flicker of movement at the bottom of his peripheral vision, and he has to look down.

Nines has popped that one button free, and is pushing the blazer back off Connor's shoulders, one by one. He doesn't push it all the way off, no, just shoves it down so far that it gets twisted up around Connor's arms. Makeshift bindings, keeping him from being able to grab at Nines in return.

Connor lets out a small gasp, shaking and syrupy, as Nines leaves off kissing him, drops down to mouth at what he can of Connor's neck. Hank shifts around, tries to adjust his pants without actually touching himself, and because he's something of a masochist, takes a look at Gavin, just to see how he's doing.

His cheeks are ruddy in splotches, and he's biting at his bottom lip so hard he's probably going to end up drawing blood. He's leaning forward, straining, even shaking a little, hands on his knees, and with such a tight fucking grip his knuckles have gone pale. Hank's own arousal is a bubble of tight heat in his belly, even though he feels like his heart's ready to pop. He's better at playing it down, going it slow. Gavin's gasping softly, but hoarsely, as the pair of androids continue to ramp up the heat.

He's probably already hard as fuck, and God, he must have landed in the bad timeline, because why in the ever loving fuck is he thinking so much about Gavin Reed's dick?

'Nines,' Connor whines, voice high and sharp and God, it does things to Hank, who even knows what it does to the other android (it does plenty to Gavin, and Hank has to suppress a nasty grin – Gavin is weak as fuck). ' _Please_ , please don't stop.'

Nines smirks, petting a hand down Connor's chest, slipping buttons free as he does. He's playing it cool as well – there's a hot flush of color on Connor's cheeks, all down the soft curve of his neck, darker spots of red showing off where Nines had bitten and sucked. Nines, on the other fucking hand, looks cool as a fucking cucumber.

'Patience, Connor. That goes for you as well, Detective Reed.'

Gavin lets out an absolutely _furious_ sounding snarl, but really, it comes off as plenty pathetic. Nines pushes Connor's shirt backwards, more of a hindrance on his arms. Hank shifts about again, doing what he can to control his breathing. He's got a lot more self control than Gavin does, and he's not going to let himself slip.

Nines's tongue leaves a glimmering, wet trail behind it as he licks his way downwards. Connor's got a well-shaped chest, not too muscular – he arches backwards to give Nines better access, balancing his pseudo-bound, tightly bunched together hands against the seat of the car. Connor's got fairly sensitive nipples, of which Nines is currently taking advantage. Connor, his head thrown back and his hair gone fairly wild, breathes out in short, sharp bursts as Nines goes on the attack. The kiss of his lips, the flick of his tongue, even the sharp white of his teeth.

Gavin makes a needy little sound, and Nines pauses, then slowly, so fucking slowly, lifts his head up. There's a glimmering strand of synthetic saliva connecting the tip of Nines's tongue to that one pert, rock-hard nipple. The reddish ring around it, the indentation in Connor's skin, from where he'd taken a bite. No, it's not going to last, that's just not the way their synthskin is made. But it sure is pretty to look at, another mark of perfect imperfection.

'Is there going to be a problem, Detective Reed?'

Gavin fucking _squirms_. Nines's cool gaze stays locked onto Gavin's, and for a moment Hank's not even sure where he should look. At Nines, or at Gavin, or fuck, at _Connor_. There's some very obvious tenting in those too-tight pants of his, that Nines is petting with firm, even strokes.

'Well?' For such a small word, it carries a whole lot of weight.

' _Nines_.' It's the softest whimper, almost immediately swallowed up by the sound of Gavin's much rougher growl, 'Yeah, I _heard you_ , you fucking plastic prick. I got it.'

The corner of Nines's mouth twitches upwards, the faintest hint of a grin. 'Good. Now, where were we… ah, _yes_ ,' and Nines lowers his hand to Connor's zip.

–  
–

The night was pitch black but for the few light poles that littered the street close by. The moon was out, with just a scattering of stars in the sky, and even though the air was cool, it being an endlessly chilly spring, Hank still felt the burning heat of the cab at the back of his neck.

Gavin was the first one out of the cab, and Hank's ushered out after him, the cool night air hitting him in the face, in the lungs, and he gulps down a few grateful breaths of it – ah, fuck, he was close to burning up. He stops a few steps down, looking backwards: Nines is out next, and he offers his hand for Connor to take. Connor smiles at him, says something that Hank's too far away to hear. And his smile, it's gentle, and the look on Nines's face, it's a lot more teasing than the air of detached professionalism he tends to always wear.

Seeing Connor smile like that, it makes Hank ache. He's beautiful, and sometimes – like now, alright – Hank doesn't actually know what he did to deserve him in his life, beyond being a miserable fucking piece of shit who'd undergone a life-altering change of heart. Androids, he used to fucking hate them. But Connor, from the very start, was playing with the already established rules of what an android was and wasn't supposed to be. Was already on the way to deviating before Markus ever had a talk with him. And Hank, well, he sure as fuck hadn't meant to fall in love with Connor. Never do, though, but isn't that just the way the game is played.

But he's not just playing it, now, he's finally winning.

There's moonlight in Connor's hair, the soft blue of his LED making his eyes really shine. 'Is something wrong, Hank?'

Hank closes his eyes. He's a little unsure of himself – which shouldn't be anything, because isn't he, always? – and Connor's fingers brush against the back of his hand. Hank grabs hold of him and Connor actually giggles as Hank tugs a little too hard, pulling him over. Bumping into Hank, before righting himself. God, he hardly looks bothered by what was going on in the back of the cab. They'd kept going and going, Nines with a mission in mind and Connor being reduced to soft whimpers and shuddering moans. Hank had found himself wondering if Nines had been planning on fucking Connor right there in front of the two of them, not that he'd ended having the chance.

Hell, not like Hank would have really minded.

Nines had paused. Connor's shirt was undone and shoved halfway down his arms, bunched up with the blazer, a sort of secondary hindrance. Nines's hand was wrapped around Connor's leaking prick, thumb rubbing gently at the ruddy slit atop the head, and he looked up with a smile to tell the two humans that they would soon be arriving at their destination. He'd helped Connor put himself back together, and there'd been groans from Hank and Gavin both as Connor had tried to be helpful in return, taking Nines's hand between his own and licking it clean of Connor's synthetic pre-come.

'This what you meant, huh?'

Connor feigns innocence as he blinks. 'What do you mean?'

'Something about how, if I just gave it a chance, I'd end up having a very rewarding night.'

Now he's grinning, ripples in that innocent facade. 'I believe my exact words were _rewarding evening_ , but yes, that's the gist of it, I suppose.'

'Such a fucking deviant,' Hank murmurs.

Connor darts in, gives him a quick kiss that still manages to make his pulse race. 'You love me because I'm a deviant.'

Hank's heart goes double time for a second, because – well, that's not exactly true. He loved Connor before that, as impossible as it might seem, and maybe he should tell Connor, but the words elude him, like ash on his tongue. Words – ah, _feelings_. Why's Connor so much better at dealing with them than Hank is? He's only had months, and Hank – fuck-up that he is – has had over fifty years.

'Yeah, I do.' God, he wants to rub a hand across his face to wipe away the sudden burn in his eyes, but Connor strokes his cheek gently, and Hank feels a whole lot better. Well, he feels a little less tight in the chest, a little less like he's ready to bawl.

Ahead of them, Gavin groans in irritation. 'Come on, Nines has already gone upstairs. Get the fuck over here, or go the hell home.'

Connor winks at Hank, and Hank grins as he gives Connor's hand a squeeze. They stride over to Gavin, who's sulking by the front entrance of the high class looking building. If Nines was bringing home the sort of money to afford staying at a place like this, no wonder Connor insisted on paying all of the household utilities, even though he hardly made use of them the way Hank did. Which meant, and suddenly Hank's throat has gone tight, Connor probably could have moved out months ago, if this place was anything to go on. But he didn't want to leave, he was choosing to stay.

With _Hank_.

Gavin sighs deeply, turning and inputting the code into the numerical pad to the right of it. With a beep, and a click, the door pops open and Gavin pushes his way inside. Hank gets hold of the door before it can shut in their face, and Connor slips in first.

Well, this is it, Hank guesses, and lets the door close behind him.

–  
–

The place is pristine, and pretty fucking spartan. Nines, as an android, doesn't need a lot of stuff, so the things he does own must be there for Gavin's comfort. That says a little about Gavin, but a whole lot more about the android who's claimed him as his own.

There's a rack with a set of hooks to the right of the door for guests (ie, Gavin Reed, because who the fuck else is going to come calling? Well, other than Hank and Connor tonight, that is) to hang their coats. There's a sofa, a few chairs, a bookshelf with a surprising number of paper-bound books. A television, and a nook that he guesses also serves as a kitchen… a kitchenette? No stove or anything like that, but there's a stack of takeaway menus next to the fridge, and a lot of empty space that doesn't really do much other than add to the empty, minimalistic aesthetic of the place. A counter, marking the divide between the two rooms, with a couple of high stools. There's got to be more, but Hank doesn't feel like digging too deep.

Gavin's currently standing over by the fridge, and his posture absolute screams tension, he's taut as a fucking rope. As for Hank, there's heat bubbling around in his stomach, a little from the nerves, a lot from the anticipation.

'This is actually going to happen.'

Gavin shoots a glare at him, actual murder in a look. 'Shut up. Do you want a drink?'

'Am I shutting up, or am I supposed to tell you whether I want a drink or not?'

Gavin sighs, rolling his eyes. 'Ah, for fuck's sake, Anderson. Use your brain.'

'Sure, a drink would be lovely. Thanks.'

Gavin snorts, but fetches a bottle of whiskey down from one of the cabinets crammed into the room, and then a couple of glasses down from another. 'On the rocks, or neat?'

'Neat.' He watches as Gavin twists the top off, and spills a measure of amber whiskey into each of the tumblers. He puts the bottle to the side, picks up each of their drinks, walks over to Hank, and shoves one of them in Hank's direction.

He takes a drink of it – and yes, it hits the fucking spot. As the heat winds down through him, it gives him time to think. He glances towards the bedroom door, the one that's now closed, that Connor and Nines had vanished behind. Then he turns back to Gavin, who's already making himself a second drink.

'Why do you think they picked Nines's place instead of one of ours?'

Gavin's lips twitch, his grip tightening on the glass. 'Neutral ground, I guess.'

Well, that makes a sort of sense. Hank doesn't want this down going down in his house, and Gavin sure as fuck seems against letting it happen at his. So, Nines's apartment is impartial – ah, fuck. He misses Connor, he wishes he hadn't followed Nines into the bedroom. Either they were formulating some other plan, or they were forcing Gavin and Hank to face each other – and face the enormity of what they were going to do.

Gavin wasn't attractive in any sense of the word… well, not to Hank, but Nines certainly liked what he saw. His face is not badly shaped or anything, and he's probably had his nose broken too many times to count – there's the scar right there on the bridge of it. If given the choice, or the chance, Hank might have wanted to break it again. But tonight, no, it seems like they're supposed to be playing nice.

Gavin clinks his glass against Hank's, gives a bitter little laugh. 'For getting what we asked for.'

Hank huffs, swallows down another shot of hot whiskey. Yeah, for getting what they'd asked for. If anyone's to blame for this, it's them – for asking, in the first place, for not saying no, though they did still have the chance.

Gavin tilts his head a little to the side, scowling at him. 'You know, I'd like this a whole lot more if you could just scamper the fuck off.'

As if he'd even think about leaving Gavin alone with Connor. 'Yeah, same to you.' Of course, Gavin was probably thinking something pretty damn similar, when it came to Hank and Nines.

Gavin jumps a little as the bedroom door swings open, and Hank turns to look back over his shoulder and a fresh wave of heat rolls over him because, _damn_. Connor's slipped out of the bedroom, but he and Nines have clearly been up to something – he's down to just his shirt, his boxers, the sock garters, and his socks, and God, does he ever look _good_. Gavin straightens up and rubs a hand across his face, then gulps down the rest of his whiskey – and he winces, because that was probably a stupid thing to do, and Hank doesn't even laugh at him the way he wants to because he doesn't want to make it look like he's laughing in Connor's face. Gavin, though, is trying, and failing, to look like he's not affected by Connor's change of attire. Hank can't help it, he's a petty bastard in general, but maybe especially when it comes to Gavin Reed's misery.

'Would you like a drink or anything?' Gavin murmurs, obviously annoyed, but clearly on his best behavior.

Connor blinks, then smiles, and shakes his head. 'No thank you, Detective. Nines would like to apologize for the delay,' he adds, slipping in under the arm Hank offers him, pressing in close and making himself comfortable as Hank grabs his far shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. He neatly plucks Hank's glass from his hand, and takes a drink of the whiskey himself, making a small sound of disgust before setting the glass back down.

Hank huffs out a laugh. 'Yeah, I know, you like your own stuff better, why didn't you take Gavin up on his offer?'

Connor shrugs, eyes twinkling.

'See, that's why you're supposed to keep your grubby mitts off mine.'

'You love my grubby mitts,' Connor replies smartly, petting a hand down Hank's chest, fingertips sliding over the buttons of his button-down shirt. Hank spots the disgusted look Gavin gives the both of them out of the corner of his eye, and plants a smirk on his lips. Connor gives one of Hank's buttons a very playful tug, but now he's looking at Gavin. Making eye contact with him, licking his bottom lip before smiling.

'Anyhow, if you're ready to proceed, we can head into the bedroom.'

Gavin sneers but damn does it ever seem forced, before he takes one last look at them and immediately bolts for the bedroom door.

–  
–

Hank's never seen a bed and felt so _small_ , like, actually physically vulnerable. Seriously, it's the biggest bed he's ever seen, and it makes him feel weak.

The minimalistic motif continues into the bedroom, but that's really no big surprise. The walls are still white, but there's soft, dark carpeting, that's pretty plush beneath the press of Hank's heel. The silky, satiny looking blankets are the deepest black that Hank's ever seen, but the room hardly looks like it's even been touched. There's a couple of bedside tables, and a plush black recliner over in the corner. Double doors that probably lead into the closet, and another door that probably links to the bathroom. Other than that, the room is bare. Not really bleak, but close. The living room looked a whole lot more, well, _lived_ in.

Well, there's a bottle of lube out on the bedside table, and Hank hadn't actually thought about who put what where, but of course it makes sense that Nines was the one who'd be topping. Hank felt lucky, since Connor was big on indulging his whims and would fuck him if that was what he wanted (it wasn't like Hank even had to ask very nicely). So maybe he really wasn't _indulging_ Connor, per se, but, Connor was just continuing to be _flexible_ , right? Whatever Hank was up for, Connor was up for, too, and it usually worked the other way around. Sometimes Hank worried, that Connor wasn't getting what he really wanted, that he was taking advantage of Connor somehow. But that was just the self doubt doing what it did best, trying to beat him down.

Well, no wonder they ended up here. New experiences, and all that bullshit. Connor was living for it, and Hank was living for him.

Hank's never seen Nines without a shirt on. He's broad-chested, and Hank stares at his dark nipples for an amount of time that feels uncomfortably long, and when Hank finally manages to look Nines in the face, there's a subtly smug look there, all for Hank to enjoy. He's wearing a neat little pair of black boxers, but other than that he's naked. Hank feels slightly put out, that they didn't get to watch the undressing – ugh, well, maybe next time, right? Like there's going to be a next time, but fuck, if the two of them have anything to say about it…

Hank would definitely say yes.

Nines's expression goes relatively blank as he gazes at the human and the android who've just made their way into the room. Gavin had been in more of a hurry, so he's already over at Nines's side, with one of Nines's hands holding onto his shoulder.

Nines's lets go of Gavin's shoulder, lets the fingers of that hand brush against Gavin's cheek, and he blinks, then nods at his android. 'Yeah, _okay_.' Gavin starts to move away from him.

'Lieutenant Anderson, if you'd please…' Nines stretches his arm out, hand upwards, fingers extended. Hank glances over at Connor, who gives him a little smile and a nod. Gavin's looking anywhere but at him as he crosses over to the other side of the room, all but dragging his heels, and since this is all happening because of their androids, Hank's not even completely aware of the plans. Get together. Have foursome. Ugh. He's been thinking about it way too much, but he might actually die if he touches Gavin's dick.

Hank swallows down the nerves, decides to just go with it. He strides over to Nines like it's the only thing to do. Nines gives him the smallest of smiles, and yes, it's nice, but it's nothing like Connor's – it doesn't hit him the same way, doesn't strip away a layer of his self-loathing. And that's okay. They might look a little alike, even sound it, but they're not actually the same. Hank's glad for the little reminders.

Hank finds himself wondering Nines had said to Gavin before Hank and Connor had joined them in the room. There hadn't been much time for them to really _do_ anything, but something had to have been said. Gavin's _okay_ had seemed pretty decisive, a lot like Hank's had been, back in the cab. Whatever ended up happening, Hank was down for it, and so was Gavin.

Nines hums a little, almost beneath his breath. Hank blinks, and turns to look at him, his attention having drifted sideways. 'What?'

Nines shrugs, with a look on his face that's oddly bemused. 'It's nothing, Lieutenant.'

'Well, good.' Hank's pretty sure he's never seen him with that amount of emotion on his face, and it's… it's really not all that bad.

'Connor was very eager to share your desire for a foursome of this nature, Lieutenant. It's quite fortuitous that Gavin was interested in it as well. I believe that...' Nines's voice drones on pleasantly as he begins to unbutton Hank's shirt, but Hank's watching Connor and Gavin as they begin to interact. Connor gives Gavin a small, sincere smile, and Gavin balls both his hands into tight fists, they're shaking at his sides.

'Detective Reed – '

'Just get on with it, you fucking asshole,' Gavin snarls, and Connor lets out a startled laugh before he gives Gavin exactly what he'd been demanding. There's no gentleness there as Connor pushes Gavin backwards – his legs hit the bed, and he goes down, eyes widening in surprise. Connor drops down to his knees, graceful as fucking ever, and Hank lets out a small, shaking breath as cool air washes across his now bare chest. Nines slips the shirt off of him, another layer of him peeled back.

Connor's down on his knees between Gavin's slightly spread legs, and he gives Gavin that award winning half-smile of his, the one Gavin doesn't actually deserve. 'Is this better, Detective Reed?'

Gavin grits his teeth together as he nods, spits out _yeah_. 'And for fuck's sake, don't call me by my, _fuck_!' Connor had pushed Gavin's legs further apart, had pressed in close, was mouthing at his groin even though his pants were in the way. 'Fuck!'

Connor's smirking as he leans back, he looks pretty damn smug. Gavin's pants were dark already, but there's a darker patch of wetness, left behind courtesy of Connor's weird CSI-lab mouth that Hank loves with all his heart.

'Let's get these clothes out of the way, shall we, Detective Reed?' And Gavin, he twitches, he fucking hates it, but he's got to like it, too, because he doesn't actually make Connor stop.

Gavin sits up quickly, and Hank lets out a little breath as one of Nines's hands slides across his stomach, a warm tingle of sensation in the wake of his fingers, the smoothness of his skin. Hank's attention is back on the android in front of him, the one who's gazing down at him, a calculated look in his eyes. He tilts his head sideways, his LED flashes yellow. Then he smirks, and Hank feels something hot spark and coil in his depths. It's a little like he's about to be eaten, and he kind of likes how it makes him feel.

'Uh…'

There's the sound of a zipper being lowered, Gavin's little gasp as Connor does whatever he does and maybe Hank should be paying more attention, but he can't look away from Nines. Nines turns them around and sits down on the side of the bed, slides his hands down to Hank's hips and pulls him in. Hank blinks down at him – ah, fuck, this sure as fuck felt weird – and Nines hums to himself as he quickly and efficiently deals with Hank's belt and zipper. There's a soft rustle of fabric as his pants end up down around his ankles, and Hank blinks down at Nines again, only this time, Nines tilts his head back, looking up at him. God. What a time to be making that level of eye contact – Nines is definitely too intense, and Hank could look away if he wanted to but, surprise motherfucker, he doesn't actually want to. And then, all of a sudden, Nines has got his hand around Hank's dick, and what's left of Hank's processing power is quickly running down to zero.

'Ah, fuck,' he mutters. Then Nines has the fucking gall to _wink_ at him, and Hank knows he must have learned that one from Connor. For fuck's sake – 

' _Ah_!'

Nines had given his dick a firm squeeze, and Hank's flailing with one arm to keep from falling. One of his hands tangles in Nines's hair, the other grips at one of the android's bare shoulders, blunt-edges nails pressing hard enough to leave a temporary bruise. Hank's telling himself to breathe, slowly, _slowly_ , wondering as he does if it's possible to die as a direct result of a blowjob.

Probably is. How fucking disappointing, really.

Nines takes him in all the damn way, his nose pressed to Hank's stomach as he swirls his tongue slowly, from one side to the other. His mouth is slick and warm and wet, like Connor's mouth – it does all the same things, after all, like suck dick like a goddamned pro, never mind all the weird shit it can do when it comes to analyzing evidence and data. Hank's feeling the burn of it already, the tremble of it, in his thighs, as Nines slips backwards, nearly letting go of him completely.

Why's he suddenly feeling so out of his element? 'Fucccck,' he groans, telling himself to keep still, because it's not Connor, no matter the similarities. Connor would have welcomed the chance to have his mouth fucked (after the first time it happened, hell, he'd all but waxed poetically about how much he'd enjoyed the experience of being _used_ ). But this isn't Connor, this is – ahhh, fuck, this is _Nines_. He shudders and he groans and his eyes start to roll back in his head. Nines has got some moves, that's for fucking sure. Hank gives in to the urge to rock his hips the way he wants to when Nines grabs half his ass and _squeezes_ , trying to pull Hank deeper into his mouth.

Hank's head lolls sideways. Gavin's red-faced, sweat glistening on his brow. He's leaning forward as he grips at Connor's hair with both hands, little judders of his hips because he's trying to fuck into Connor's mouth but he can't, Connor's hands are two steady points of pressure at his hips and he's quite easily holding Gavin down. Hank doesn't actually know where to look. At Connor, lashes fluttering as he swallows Gavin down, the slick mess that's dripping down from his mouth and coating Gavin's dick; at Gavin, red-cheeked and breathing in soft but rough bursts, teeth clenching as he shakes and groans.

Hank lets out the breath he'd been holding. Messes Nines's hair, just because he can. Always so fucking cool and collected, Hank's never seen him with a hair out of place. And it's a good look on him, it really is. His tongue curves around the flesh in his mouth, and Hank's breaths are coming out, harder, shorter puffs. Nines pulls back, and Hank slips out of his mouth as Nines gives a wet little sigh as he wipes a hand across his chin.

Gavin tenses and jerks up, and Connor pulls back but it's too late. A few spurts of Gavin's release hit Connor across the face, and Connor actually looks somewhat disappointed. Gavin leans back, bracing himself with both his arms as he takes in big gulps of breath, trying to cool himself down.

Nines lets go of Hank's hips and Hank takes a few tumbling steps away from him. Hell, he was still in his shoes. He turns around and flops down onto the bed, sitting at the edge, toeing his shoes off and then removing his socks.

Nines actually tuts his tongue, shaking his head as he stands up. Connor rises to his feet, and their hands brush together as they move towards their own preferred human. Connor wipes a hand across his face, and looks Hank dead in the eye as he licks at the mess that's been left on his hand.

Hank, who was ready to have his brain sucked out through his dick, makes a face, but it's not as disgusted as it could have been. Connor sits beside him, sliding an arm around him and letting Hank lean into him. Kisses follow, and Hank tries not to think too hard about the taste of it, since it's Gavin's dick that had just been in _his_ boyfriend's mouth.

Nines is sitting beside Gavin, face turned away as he rubs Gavin's back. 'Well, that was unexpected,' he murmurs.

'Sorry,' Gavin mutters, leaning into him, blushing so hard Hank wouldn't be surprised if he spontaneously caught fire. Hank tilts his head sideways, like he's seeing a side of the both of them that he'd never been aware of. 'Kind of caught me unaware, I didn't mean to...'

'Don't worry, Gavin,' Nines says, tone steady. 'We can still make the best of it. Anyhow, there's always next time.'

Gavin makes a face, but he catches Hank looking at him, and his expression goes curiously blank. Next time, _next time_. Yeah, he'd thought it already, but that didn't mean he was supposed to be right about it, _right_? 'Alright, if you think so. You really wanna go through with all this, I guess?'

'Only because I know it's what you want.'

Gavin scowls, but he turns his head and rests against Nines's shoulder, eyes closed. He looks more at peace with himself, and the world around him, than Hank's ever seen him before – hell, Hank hadn't even thought it was a thing Gavin was even capable of doing. He's always stressed, he's always on edge, he's the biggest fucking jerk that Hank's ever had the displeasure of knowing, and yet. And yet...

'Shall we continue?' Connor's voice breaks the calmness that had settled across the room. His hand slides down Hank's bare, sweaty chest, his mouth reshaping itself into a small, but warm smile, as he strokes Hank where he was starting to get soft. Hank closes his eyes and grinds his teeth together, groaning as he bucks against Connor's hand.

'Yes, I think we shall,' Nines says, and well, Hank guesses that's that. Nines very easily takes charge of things again, and even though Gavin's already come, the androids help him and Gavin both shed the last of their clothing. Hank shivers from anticipation, a cool undercurrent of air passing through the room. Getting completely naked in front of Connor is bad enough, this is so much worse. Gavin, though he does look over at him curiously, doesn't say anything, and Nines gestures for Hank and Connor both to climb up on the bed.

'He does usually last longer this,' Nines says, in a way that's close to detached, which only makes Gavin blush harder, attempting to pull away, but Nines grip is vice-like, Gavin's not going anywhere if Nines doesn't want him to. A brush of fingers at Gavin's chin, and he turns his mouth to Nines, eyes falling shut as they fall into the kiss. Hank stares, as Connor moves nearby and makes the mattress shift about. 'We needn't adjust the plans too much, if you still want to be fucked…' He smiles, and it touches his eyes, a bit eerie, but a bit sweet, and really fucked up. 'Your mouth would look so pretty, stretched around my predecessor's cock.'

Well, now Gavin's not the only one who's blushing. Connor turns and hides his face against Hank's shoulder, and Hank has to look away, fuck, the things that Nines _says_. He's even worse about it than Connor. Connor was, surprisingly enough, a natural tease. Nines, though, he's simply not playing fair.

Gavin shakes his head. 'Ugh, God, no. It's okay… it's my own fucking fault, there's always next time.'

Nines studies him intently, LED glowing a steady yellow.

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure,' he sighs, and then, very softly, ' _fuck_.'

Nines turns to face Hank and Connor, studying them openly. Then he tells Hank where to kneel, and he tells Connor to move, and they do what they've been told with an air of detachment, as if they didn't know any better. He'd slipped out of his tight boxer shorts at some point, not that Hank had noticed. He's still wearing his shirt, the fucking sock garters, too.

The mattress is pretty firm beneath him where he kneels. Connor's rearranged himself, on his hands and knees between Hank and the far edge of the bed. Connor smiles up at him, one of those small, warm smiles that makes the tension in Hank's spine start to unwind. Hank leans down and Connor pushes up, one hand against Hank's shoulder, steadying himself so he doesn't end up falling over – nice thinking on Connor's part, but hey, he thinks about most everything. Hank moans into the kiss, and Connor's lashes flutter as he sighs, pulling away. He licks at his lips, and his LED goes yellow for a moment before returning to blue.

He jolts a little, mouth dropping open. 'Nines, you could have… ah, fuck, you could have at least given me a warning.'

Hank blinks through a sudden haze. Nines has one knee on the bed, that cool mask of his broken by the faintest of grins and yeah, sure, Connor isn't the only one who likes to tease. Nines is pressing into Connor's hole with who knows how many fingers, and Hank knows Nines has to know that the foreplay is nice but unnecessary – self-lubricating, remember? But it's hot, and Hank can't stop watching as it plays out in front of him: as Connor rocks back with minute little shifts of his hips, pushing Nines's fingers as deep as they can go. His breathing becomes more and more erratic, keening little wails and bursts of jarring static slipping out of his mouth.

The orgasm hits him out of nowhere, Hank just petting his hair a little stupidly as he watches. Connor tenses up, throwing his head back as he cries out. His eyes are extra wet, a few stray tears caught in his lashes. He leans forward and lets his head loll, taking the time to catch his breath, the breaths he doesn't even need. Well, other than helping to cool his systems down.

Hank wants to ask him, is he okay? Do they need to stop? Is this all too much, was it a fucking mistake to begin with, and them just going on and on and _on_ , it's making it worse?

'Lieutenant,' Connor murmurs, and that knocks Hank out of the whirlwind of his suddenly panicked thoughts. 'Hank?' Hank settles back, looking down, and Connor smiles up at him as he takes Hank's dick in hand. He'd softened a little just watching, experiencing it from the outside in. Connor's quickly got him hard again, soft little kisses and kitten licks and Hank's eyes actually ache from the force of him shutting them so tightly.

Hank blinks his eyes open at the sound of a smack. Connor's pulled away from him and Nines is staring down at him, and Hank, well, Hank's just caught up in the enormity of it, a little like he's quickly going under, but he doesn't want to stop.

'Lieutenant, please,' Nines smiles at him, 'if you could move back, a little. The bed is big enough, there's plenty of room.'

Hank nods, a little dumbly. He scoots backwards and Connor crawls after him. Nines draws Gavin over to him, and hooks an arm around him. 'I want you to be right here beside me,' he says, very softly. 'Because you were so impatient, this is what you get to miss.'

Nines doesn't let him look away, squeezing Gavin's chin, though Gavin does try – he's permanently blushing at this point, but really, Gavin flustered apparently means a Gavin who's forgotten how to speak. Hank could get used to that part of it, at least.

Hank's dick slides into the wet warmth of Connor's mouth. Nines – he's pretty well hung, Hank has to say, and if he turned this into a dick comparing contest, Nines would probably win – pushes into Connor from behind, but there's no gentleness there. He knows exactly what Connor can take. With a snap of his hips, Nines pushes Connor that bit further onto Hank's dick, and all Hank's really aware of is the tightness of Connor's throat squeezing down on him, the unnatural texture and just the right amount of pressure. Ah, fuck, if it was actually physically possible for him, Connor would have to be choking on it. No gag reflex. He doesn't need air. He's taking Hank's dick like a fucking champ, that's for sure.

Hank thrusts harder, _hard_ , it's sure as fuck hard to even think. The room is gently swaying, and Connor's mouth so fucking wet and _tight_. His ass jiggles impressively as Nines slams into him – see, just what the fuck was going through the minds of those guys at CyberLife when they decided that realistic ass jiggling physics should be a necessary part of their androids' design? Not that Hank's complaining. Not that Connor's stopped groaning around his mouthful of dick. Not that Gavin hasn't stopped staring, eyes big and wide, the pupils absolutely blown out. He's biting at his lip, all his attention focused on Connor.

Except, when it flickers over to Nines, or even Hank, when he looks a little like he's completely out of himself. Hank knows he should look away, but he doesn't actually want to, and he's not completely sure what to do with that sort of internal struggle. It doesn't upset Hank's arousal one bit, though he's pretty sure it should, for all his previous concerns about getting an eyeful of Gavin's dick. And Gavin keeps making some more of that incredible direct eye contact. Maybe it makes it all feel a little weirder than it really should be, but hell, that's perfectly alright. Sex is allowed to be weird, a little uncomfortable, just, uncomfortable in all the right ways.

Gavin tilts his head, eyes half-shut as he says, in a tone that's almost conversational, 'God, he's such a fucking slut. Look at him, he fucking loves it, getting reamed by both of your dicks.'

Connor makes a half-hearted sound of protest and Nines actually smirks. Gavin gasps and jerks as Nines does something, turning to Nines, who presses in for a kiss, not that he's stopped fucking Connor. No, the rise and fall and roll of his hips is strangely hypnotic, and Hank feels every powerful jolt of it through the body that connects them. 'Yeah,' Hank murmurs, heart pounding in his chest, Connor's mouth so warm and wet and tight, the slick slip of his tongue. 'Like you wouldn't kill to be where he is.'

Nines's hand curls at the back of Gavin's neck so he can't pull away and break their kiss, but Gavin still manages to shoot a sideways glare at Hank that's positively _seething_. Seems Hank had hit the nail on the fucking head, though, and wow, he really doesn't know how he feels about _that_.

The orgasm that he's been chasing after finally hits him, all of a fucking sudden. The tightness in his balls, the ball of heat in his belly. Connor carries him through it, sucking out every last drop of his resistance, and Hank collapses backwards and drifts out of himself on a cloud of absolute bliss.

He rolls to the side and curls a little in on himself, watching as Nines _reacts_. He goes from kissing Gavin, and petting down his side, to staring down at Connor as Connor pushes back into his thrusts. The look on Connor's face is one of rapt bliss, his eyes shut, his mouth slightly open. He'd swallowed down most of Hank's release, but there's a few pale trails of it slipping down his chin, glimmering in the light. Hanks heart skips a few more beats, and his dick gives an oversensitive twitch. God, he never wants to move again, but watching, watching sure is nice.

Connor cries out, throwing his head back and slamming himself backwards. His hands are bunched up in the black blanket, but his skin is fading in and out, showing off the chassis underneath. Nines takes a gulp of unneeded breath and that sparks the end for him. He eases out of Connor and Connor actually whines, rolling onto his side and letting his head fall back onto the bed. He's still hard, still leaking.

Nines gazes down at him, bemused. 'You could come if you wanted to, Connor.'

Connor frowns, gives a minute buck of his hips. Hank's eyes are absolutely caught up in the way Connor's dick bounces, so pretty and flushed with color, all the synthetic pre-come that's leaking down from the tip. He's too fucking pretty, from the top all the way to the bottom. Hank really wants to get his mouth on Connor's dick, but he's equally compelled to pass out and sleep for at least a week.

'Well maybe I don't feel like it, yet,' he says, softly yet steadily.

Hank's breath catches in his throat, that sure as hell got his attention. Nines makes a very thoughtful sound, and gives Gavin a little shove forward. It catches him off guard, and he tumbles down onto the bed, catching himself with just one hand. Hank starts to push himself up, but decides otherwise and settles back down.

'Would you like to play with Gavin?'

'As long as Detective Reed does not object.'

Gavin shrugs. 'Yeah, whatever, it's fine.'

Gavin runs a hand across his face and crawls over towards him, very precisely, one hand after the other. Connor gives him the sweetest little smile as Gavin continues to move towards him. It's the sort of sweetness that seems to say, you're forgiven for all the past animosity, and now you're going to get fucked – Connor might not be able to hold that sort of grudge.

Nines is moving around the bed, towards the little table closer to the bedroom door. He picks up the bottle of lube and tosses it towards Connor, whose hand shoots up to catch the bottle without even looking. Androids and their tricks. So yeah, maybe he's cheating a little, but Gavin's not actually complaining, and Hank certainly doesn't mind.

He tries to make himself a little more comfortable. He's still pleasantly tingling all over, watching as Gavin comes to a stop, on his hands and knees above Connor's resting body. Connor smiles up at him, but it's sharper somehow, and Gavin goes _oh_ as Connor quickly flips him onto his back, switching their positions.

'Jesus,' Gavin groans.

Connor leans down to nose at his cheek, and Gavin turns his head away from him. His eyes are shut tightly, his chest is sharply rising and falling, and the cap atop the tube gives a little plastic click as Connor pops it off. It's a brand of lube he's familiar with, water-based stuff. Wouldn't want to damage any of the androids silicone components, after all.

Hank watches as Connor sits back, pours out a generous amount of the stuff onto the palm of his hand. Gavin turns his head to look up at him, eyes half-lidded. 'Hitch your leg up,' Connor tells him, and Gavin does as he's been told, doesn't even mouth off about it. So, Hank's uncomfortably close to seeing just how much Gavin likes to be fucked by an android, and Hank should probably feel more concerned about it than he does. He's also uncomfortably close to Gavin's dick. Sure, there's an internal sense of pride – Hank's bigger, and yeah, that's a pretty stupid thing for him to go and think. Gavin looks achingly hard, slick stuff leaking down. An hour ago, maybe two, Hank hadn't even wanted to think about Gavin's dick, and now, he's getting a real eyeful of it as Gavin makes a mess on his own stomach. He isn't actually bothered by it, not even a bit.

Connor leans in again, one hand vanishing in between Gavin's legs. Gavin's face scrunches up as Connor presses into him, one side of his shirt gently caressing Gavin's side, and Hank doesn't have a really great angle for this but there's a _moment_ going on, he doesn't want to break it. Connor presses open mouthed kisses up and down Gavin's neck as he begins fingering him, Gavin's mouth opening and closing a few times before he settles on a grimace.

'Don't be so fucking gentle,' Gavin grits out, but Hank can sure as hell tell he likes it. He's also reminded of the irony of Gavin calling Connor a slut – he's got some real fucking nerve, actually – since Hank keeps getting more and more evidence of Gavin being one of them too, as he wriggles about, _moans_. 'I can take it.'

Connor smirks, and Gavin actually jolts as Connor gives him a little more of what he wants. One of Gavin's hands shoots up and grabs at Connor's arms, fingers straining as he shudders and _breathes_ , just breathes. Hank looks sideways as he feels the mattress shift to his left, he hadn't even noticed Nines leaving the room. Now he's back, and he scoots over to where Hank is still laying on his side, smiles down at him, then turns that smile onto Connor and Gavin. Hank's attention slips around the room, and he spots a couple of bottles of water on the bedside table, probably for afters, fresh from the fridge.

Hank, though, his attention drifts back to the scene unfolding in front of him.

'Just look at them,' Nines murmurs. Hank's definitely never heard that sort of warmth in his voice, not that he thought Nines completely incapable of it. He sounds, honest to God, _proud_.

Hank blinks, as Nines helps him to sit up, sure of his every movement. Nines strong arms tugging him backwards until Hank is pressed between his legs, his back to Nines's chest. He's warm all over, giving Hank something something stable to lean himself against. There's the soft rise and fall of his chest, he doesn't even have to be breathing, but Hank definitely appreciates the little touches. Honestly, Hank's still feeling pretty boneless.

'Do you need a drink, Lieutenant?' Nines asks, his voice low, and warm, and right at Hank's ear.

Hank shakes his head, just fractionally. He hardly feels like moving, no, he's comfortable and warm and Gavin is grinding himself down on Connor's fingers. Sure, Hank's feeling a little parched but he thinks he can hold out a while longer. 'Honestly, Detective,' Connor says, and Gavin _moans_. 'You're so impatient.'

'Just fuck me already, _God_ , get it over with.'

Connor smirks. Gavin goes back to looking flustered as Connor gets a good hold of him, under his legs, pulling his legs up so they were draped over Connor's. Gavin blinks up at him, and Connor pours some more of the lube out onto his hand, tongue slowly sliding across his bottom lip as he reaches down to stroke himself, spreading the lube around. He gets a better hold on Gavin, this time by manhandling him into position by gripping his ass. He pulls Gavin up, he leans forwards, and Gavin lets go of him just long enough to bunch his hand up and smack his fist back into Connor's bicep. Well, where he'd have biceps, if his body had all the right muscles and human components.

Connor's very, very close to him now, their noses are almost touching. His breath is low, but even, and Gavin's is coming out in short, strained little puffs.

Hank lets out a small breath as Nines nuzzles at the curve of his neck and shoulder, soft little kisses and nips of his lips and teeth that have Hank's blood pulsing along in his veins. Kisses. He wonders what Nines's lips would feel like, pressed to his, the soft slip of his tongue, ah, _fuck_. That somehow seems outside the realm of possibility, now that Hank's been presented with some sort of _truth_. Even though the night had started off differently, Nines and Connor making out in the back of the cab. But this is all only happening because the androids had said what the humans weren't capable of saying, setting up the rules and breaking them as they saw fit.

Then Gavin whines, he honest to God _whines_ , which makes Nines chuckles softly, just another puff of his breath against Hank's neck. It makes him shiver, makes him shift about, and Gavin hits Connor's arm again as he tells him to move already, _move_.

Connor, with a pleased little smirk on his lips, does.

–  
–

Gavin's passed out in the bedroom as Hank and Connor tell Nines goodbye. Nines had assured them that the bed was big enough for all four of them, that at least they should take a shower before leaving, but Hank really wanted to get home. 'Maybe next time,' Hank had said, and Nines had sure as hell looked interested in that.

Connor's hand slips over to squeeze Hank's as they walk out of the apartment, into the hall beyond. By the time they're outside again, it's the early hours of a different fucking day, and the autotaxi is already waiting for them at the curb. Hank smiles over at Connor, not that he's completely sure what he's feeling. Inside, outside, whatever. Well, other than pretty fucking relaxed.

'So,' Connor asks him, as he cuddles up close in the back of the cab. He drapes his arms around Hank, and Hank gets an arm around him, pulls him up onto his lap, and Connor goes without the slightest protest. 'Did you have a rewarding evening, Lieutenant?'

Hank huffs and gives him a tight squeeze, momentarily resting his forehead against Connor's shoulder. Connor pets his back gently, and Hank slowly, so very slowly, lifts his head back up. It was not a bad night, not by any definition of the word, and sure, they'd done plenty that Hank hadn't at first expected… but it certainly hadn't been bad.

'I think I still have some stuff to sort through… but yeah, yeah, I think I did.'

Connor's smile is close to blinding. 'Shall I let Nines know that, perhaps, sometime in the future, we might consider doing this again? You did say _next time_ , Lieutenant. I think it would be rude to leave him hanging.'

'God, Connor…' He sighs, but then he pinches Connor's hip, and lets out a somewhat startled laugh all of his own. 'You know what, sure. But next time, I wanna pick out where we go out to eat.'

Connor beams another bright smile at him, Hank actually has to look away. Only then Connor's got a hand at his chin, bringing Hank's attention back where he wants. His LED flashes yellow, and Connor giggles, leaning his cheek into Hank's. Hank can't see his little light any longer, though he suspects it's gone back to blue.

'Nines says, it's a deal.'

Ah, _fuck_. Alright, yeah, Hank can live with that.

–  
–

'Good morning, Lieutenant.'

Hank grumbles a _mornin'_ at Nines, clinging to the cup of coffee Connor had recently delivered to him, only standing up because he needed to stretch his legs – he'd been ready to fall asleep at his desk. The coffee is hot, black, with just a dash of sugar – just the way he likes it. He takes a drink of it, and then Hank frowns. It's unusual, seeing Nines at the station without Gavin in tow.

'Hey, where's your partner?'

It's clear Nines is trying not to smirk, but he's failing at it, failing _bad_ , and for a purportedly advanced prototype that doesn't fail at anything, that's pretty fucking telling. 'He had to request a personal day off. He was far too exhausted to even consider coming into work, especially after what my predecessor put him through last night. Oh, and what I put him through this morning.'

Hank probably shouldn't have chosen to take a drink of his coffee right then, because now he's choking on it. Nines pats his back a few times, hard, steady claps of his hand that nearly knock Hank right out of his head.

'Ah, for fuck's sake,' Hank mutters, like it's turned into his catchphrase. 'I don't think I needed to know that, but hell, thanks a lot for the totally unwanted mental image.' It's his own damn fault, really, because if he'd had any sense the night before, he wouldn't actually knew what sorts of faces Gavin made while he was in the midst of a good dicking down. Anyhow, it's not all that unwanted a mental image, but Hank's not gonna up and admit _that_.

Well, at least there wasn't anyone else in the bullpen – other than Connor, who doesn't actually care what sort of sordid things he hears about Nines's and Gavin's sexlife, since the two of them are now intimately aware of the sorts of things that Connor and Hank get up to, too. It was a calculated comment, on Nines's part. He wouldn't have dared to say it if there's been more people in the room.

This time, as Nines turns away from him to return to his desk, he's not even _trying_ to hide his smirk. Fucking androids, Hank thinks, and strolls over towards his own desk, and Connor, who's sitting in front of his terminal with a cheery smile on his face.

Hank smiles, because he can't really help himself. Fucking androids, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> i accidentally a foursome lol


End file.
